The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore
by Brooser
Summary: Albus Dumbledore was one of the greatest Wizards of all time, but what was his story? How did a young boy from a broken family come to be one of the most acclaimed figures of his time? This is the story of his life. Chapter 4 is up; Please R&R!
1. Above Average

(( This is the story of Albus Dumbledore, one of the greatest Wizards of the Millennium. It chronicles the partial story of his life, beginning in his childhood in 1891 and ending with his defeat of the Dark Wizard Grindelwald in 1945. If you haven't read all of the Harry Potter series [namely the seventh book], be warned, because this will contain a lot of spoilers! All characters and locations are property of JK Rowling.

Other than that, please enjoy. ))

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"Albus," the woman called loudly from the kitchen. Her voice rang out down the hallway. "Supper's ready."

"Just a moment, mum..."

"What do you mean? Your brother and sister are already at the table, I told you to wash up 5 minutes ago!" She strode down the hall and pushed open the door to the young boy's room, glaring at him crossly. "What on earth is taking so long?"

Albus looked up at his mother guiltily from where he was sitting on the floor. He shifted his half-moon spectacles nervously. "Nothing, I was just..."

Kendra caught sight of the potions set tucked hastily underneath the bed, one of the corners still poking out. She frowned.

"You haven't been fooling around with your father's potions set again, have you?"

"No," Albus quickly lied, subtly trying to block it from view by shifting a little to the left. It made no difference however; Kendra flicked her wand, and the wooden box slid into view.

"Albus! What have we told you?" she cried in exasperation.

"I was trying to--"

"Experiment, I'm sure," Kendra said fiercely, cutting him off. "Always with the experiments! You'll be turning eleven in a few months' time and then you'll be off to Hogwarts, but until then you have no business messing around with things you don't know about."

"I do know about them!" Albus said quickly. "I read one of father's old textbooks, it isn't hard--" He dropped on his belly and slid a small cauldron from beneath the bed as he talked, revealing it to be filled with a darkish-grey fluid. "--I think I've almost got a better Calming Draught worked out, it uses half as much knottgrass as the recipe in the book--"

He was cut off as Kendra swished her wand through the air with a little more force than necessary; the potion vanished, but the miniature cauldron toppled over with a small clang.

"Mum, I..." he began, but stopped as he saw her expression.

"Supper. _Now_."

Knowing better than to argue further, Albus hurried off to the kitchen, where his brother, sister, and father were all sitting quietly, pretending that they hadn't heard the loud row in the other room. He washed his hands in the washbasin as quickly as he could, then hurriedly sat down. Once everyone was there, Kendra waved her wand distractedly and supper appeared clumsily on the table. Albus continued to avoid his mother's searing gaze as he quietly chewed his steak-and-kidney pie, though he could practically hear her fuming from across the table. Aberforth sniggered quietly.

Kendra Dumbledore was beautiful in her own way, though it was typically hidden by her usual fierce expression. She had thick auburn hair, which he had inherited; hers was nearly always kept in an extraordinarily tight bun atop her head. Albus's eyes, a piercing bright blue, had been taken from his father, who was reading the Daily Prophet as they ate. The headline read "Minister of Magic Gives Speech at Gringott's Denouncing Goblin Prejudice". Below it was a picture of a short, portly man wearing a waistcoat and a top hat, standing in front of a glistening white building. He was gesticulating wildly and was talking very fast with an exceptionally large mouth; the audience looked fairly bored. Looking to clear the silence, Albus's father cleared his throat.

"Looks like old 'Spout Hole' is blabbering on about Goblin's Rights again," he said in a tone of mild interest, although Albus could tell that he was just trying to distract his mother from her rage. "Funny, he seemed to be taking the opposite stance a few months ago..."

"Oh, Faris Spavin never takes any side on an issue unless he's sure that the Wizarding community will back him," Kendra said dismissively. She suddenly locked eyes with her husband. "Percival, do you know what your son was doing just now?"

"I think I might have heard something from down the hall," Percival said, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly.

"Then you'll know that he was conjuring up more potions in his room."

Percival sighed, folding the paper and setting it down. He adjusted his glasses. One could tell that he had been handsome in his day, but the slight bags under his eyes and the streaks of white in his blond hair and beard betrayed that he was getting on in years. He looked at his wife calmly.

"Kendra, let the boy have his fun."

"Fun? Percy, you must be kidding! He's cooped up in his room all day, he barely ever plays with other children... Aberforth and Ariana get along fine with the Sprouts and the Ridgebits, so why shouldn't Albus--"

"Maybe Albus prefers his own company," his father said thoughtfully.

"Little Harvey Ridgebit is in Albus's year, and yet they barely know each other--"

"I like Harvey," Aberforth piped up. "He's nice, and he has a pet Crup..."

"--so shouldn't he be making friends now?" Kendra continued, ignoring her second son. "He's going to get to Hogwarts, and he isn't going to have any friends at all. All of the other old Wizarding families will know each other already, and where will that leave Albus?"

"About where you were when you started Hogwarts, and you did fine if I recall... just like all of the other Muggle-borns," Percival said, smiling shrewdly at Kendra. She turned bright red.

"But Albus _isn't_ Muggle-born! There's no reason at all for--"

"Let Albus figure things out on his own. He can decide what's best for himself." He turned to him suddenly. "Albus? What do you think?"

Albus felt on the spot as every eye at the table rested on him. He cleared his throat nervously.

"Well, I don't dislike any of the other people here... honestly. I just think that I need to prepare for next year is all..."

"There, you see?" Percival said brightly, as if he considered the matter to be resolved. Kendra frowned, not willing to let it rest.

"He's only ten! It's not natural for someone so young to be in such control of their powers... he doesn't even have a wand yet. What if the Ministry were to find out about all of this underage magic he's been doing?"

"Then they'll be plenty impressed, I'm sure. Kendra, it's fine... you overreact." Percival smiled at her, taking her hand from across the table. "Albus is an incredibly talented young wizard. You should be proud of him. I can only imagine what he'll be able to accomplish once he actually has a wand..."

"May I be excused?" Albus asked, pushing his clean plate away from him. He was more than ready to get away from this awkward conversation. At the very least, Aberforth and Ariana didn't seem to be listening, although Aberforth was stabbing at the remains of his food with a little more force than necessary.

Kendra scrutinized his plate with pursed lips, then gave a jerky nod. "But no more experiments!" she called after him as he scurried off. "Do you hear me, Albus?"

"Yes, mum!" he called, hurrying to his room. Once the door was closed, he sighed and stared mournfully at the empty cauldron. It had been his best attempt at a Calming Draught yet. He didn't know if he'd be able to wait nearly a whole year. Next September was nearly nine months away... Albus couldn't wait until the day when he'd be able to work on all of his ideas without fear of getting in trouble or scolded. Maybe his professors would even be impressed; he didn't know what the standard was for magical prowess at Hogwarts, but neither Aberforth nor Ariana seemed able to do the same things as him. Sure, they had shown plenty of magical ability: Aberforth's first accidental magical outburst had set the neighbor's cat on fire when he was three; Ariana's, when she was four, was to cause a broken plate to fix itself after a night of worrying over what their mother would do if she found out she had broken it. Still, could they make things move simply by concentrating on them? Could they make messes disappear when he didn't want his mother to find out about them? Not as far as he could tell. He was different, unique, special. Shouldn't he get at least a little credit for it?

As the kerosene lanterns on the walls began to dim on their own, Albus changed into his dressing gown, crawling under his sheets as his brother climbed into his own bed across the room. As he began to drift off into sleep, his head was filled with warm, glowing images of Hogwarts, standing in the castle corrdors and wielding a wand with dazzling skill, impressing teachers and peers alike. Hadn't his mother said that he was different? Hadn't his father said it was something to be proud of? There he would be congratulated, not reprimanded. As he began to lose himself to sleep, he dreamed that the Minister of Magic was handing him an award, shaking his hand... he had somehow managed to help the fight for Goblin's Rights by making a better Calming Draught... or had he set the neighbor's cat on fire? It was difficult to tell, everything was running together...

Under his sheets, Albus rolled over, a smile on his lips.


	2. The Attack

"Albus, wake up," a small voice said, stirring him from his dreams. He woke up groggily; for a moment everything looked blurry, then he remembered to put on his glasses. His little sister was smiling brightly at him.

"Wake up, Alby. Mummy wants you."

"Thanks, Ariana," Albus said, rubbing his eyes. He sat up and looked down at the girl. His sister had the bright, innocent spirit one would expect from a six-year-old. Somewhat small and frail for her age, she had rosy cheeks and thick golden locks. As Albus watched her, she skipped over to the other side of the room where his brother was sleeping. She shook him gently.

"Abe," Ariana said gently, tapping his arm tentatively.

"Huh?" His round, grubby face appeared from under the sheets, his head topped with a bunch of messy brown curls. Albus got along decently with both of his siblings, although at times his seven-year-old brother could be fairly annoying. Aberforth had the particularly aggrivating habit of asking loud questions whenever Albus managed to sneak some of their father's spellbooks or potions manuals into their bedroom, which usually alerted Kendra and won Albus a smarting bottom.

Ariana tapped him again. "Abe, wake up. Mummy says you need to do your chores."

"I don't wanna," Aberforth mumbled, turning over under the covers.

"Come on, Abe," Albus said, pulling a clean set of robes on over his head. "Mum's going to start spitting tacks if you don't go collect the hen's eggs, you were supposed to do it yesterday..."

"I don't need you to tell me that," Aberforth said angrily, his head reappearing. The comment about Kendra's anger seemed to have swayed him however, as he soon began to get dressed as well. Ariana waved goodbye to both of them, then skipped off down the hall.

"Why doesn't Ariana have to do any chores?" Aberforth mumbled sourly. He had never been a morning person.

"Because she's too young, and she's a girl."

"So? What does that have to do with anything?"

"She'll have to start doing them soon enough. You used to not have to do anything either..."

"Well, I wish I didn't have to now. Why can't mum just do it? It'd take two seconds using magic."

Albus sighed. "Because, Abe, doing chores without magic..." He hesitated. "Well, it lets you really appreciate your magic when you _can_ use it." He wasn't certain that it was true, but it seemed a valid enough point.

"That's a load of rubbish. I'd appreciate it plenty right now..."

----

What Albus didn't mention to his brother was that he had recently been working on how to do his chores using what little magic he _could_ do. Of course, he couldn't let anyone see; Kendra would be furious if she saw him doing more magic on purpose, and Aberforth would be likely to demand that Albus show him how to do it. Still, it was worth the risk; it definitely saved time, and helped him practice his magic for Hogwarts. At the moment, Albus was out in the garden, pulling up weeds. Rather than yank them out by hand, he could usually make them pluck themselves out of the ground by screwing up all of his concentration. It worked about half of the time, which was more than he used to be able to do, even if it gave him a bit of a headache.

Their yard was fairly large; the grass was a bit unkept, and it was littered with the fallen leaves of autumn. It was surrounded by a large hedge; at one side of the yard was a moderately neat vegetable garden, and at the other side was a small chicken coop. From his spot in the garden, Albus could see Aberforth running around the yard, chasing chickens; he was obviously trying to put off his chores for as long as possible.

"Albus, how's it coming?" Kendra said suddenly from behind him, and it was all he could to do stop himself from jumping in surprise. He immediately grabbed a weed and tore it from the ground, acting as if he had been doing so the entire time, then turned to look at his mother. She was dressed in a simple Muggle dress, and a wooden basket was hanging on her arm.

She surveyed the small pile of weeds with approval. "Very nice. You did this quickly too. See? You don't have to do magic in order to get a job done." Albus chuckled nervously.

"I reckon you're right, mum."

She gave him a small smile, a rarity for her; she was clearly in a good mood this morning.

"I'm going to take the eggs to the Muggle market. Aberforth is coming with me. While you're weeding, watch Ariana, won't you?"

Albus spotted Ariana playing in the yard with Aberforth. He nodded.

"Where's father?"

"He's in the house; he has a bit of work to do for the Ministry before the weekend is up. Try not to bother him, it's very important."

Albus nodded. He was used to his father working late; the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office was fairly understaffed. "Alright, mum."

"Aberforth! Come along. Do you have the eggs?" she called. Albus could see his brother's guilty expression from the yard. Clearly he didn't have a single one.

"Uhm... hold on a second, mum..."

Kendra gave him a stern look, then waved her wand.

"_Accio Eggs_!" A couple dozen eggs flew from the hen house across the yard, landing in a neat pile in her basket. She flicked her wand once more, and Aberforth's grubby robes transformed into some suitable Muggle clothing: a coat and knickers. Aberforth looked appalled.

"But mum, I _hate_ wearing Muggle clothes! Why do I have to wear these?"

"We're going to the Muggle market, I _told_ you!" she said harshly, grabbing his arm firmly and practically dragging him across the yard and through the gate. Albus could still hear his brother wailing after they were out of sight.

Albus sighed with mild relief. Now that his mother was out of the way, he didn't have to worry about being discovered using magic to perform his chores. There was still his father to worry about of course, but he tended to get absorbed in his work; besides, he tended to turn a blind eye on Albus when he was trying to practice his magic.

He continued to pull weeds by magic, stopping occasionally to pick one by hand if he couldn't manage the task magically. Every now and then he would glance up to check on his six-year-old sister; she was entertaining herself by chasing a butterfly. She suddenly froze; the butterfly had inexplicably transformed into a ragdoll, which fell to the ground with a gentle thump. She stared at Albus, bright-eyed.

"Did you see that?" she asked excitedly.

"I did, good job." Albus said with a smile. It wasn't uncommon, he knew, for Wizarding children to have random bursts of uncontrolled magical ability. Ariana picked up the doll and began playing with it instead.

"I wish mummy could have seen..."

Albus didn't answer, suddenly struck by an idea. His mother's watchful eye was gone... as long as he didn't alert his father, what was to stop him from continuing his potions experiment from the night before? If he perfected a better Calming Draught by the time he arrived at Hogwarts, surely he'd be able to rise to the top of his Potions class at the least...

"Ariana, stay here!" Albus said, running off into the house.

"But where are you going?" she called after him, but he ignored her. He didn't have very long; his mother probably wouldn't be at the market for a terribly long time. He crept carefully through the house; as he expected, his father was in his study, hunched over his desk and scribbling on a piece of parchment. Albus went completely unnoticed as he crept down the hall and stole into his parents' bedroom.

On his knees, he dragged his father's heavy trunk from under the bed; as he tried to open it, he found with dismay that it was locked. Of course... his mother wouldn't have left it open after he had gotten caught the night before. Still, all was not lost; he knew what to do. While he'd never gotten a chance to try out the spell before, he had read enough about its theory that he felt fairly confident in his ability to make it work. He rolled back his sleeves nervously and took a deep breath.

"_Alohomora_," he whispered. The lock on the chest shook feebly, but didn't budge. He sighed. If only he had a wand, this would probably have worked...

"Albus? What are you doing?"

Albus jumped to his feet. His father was looking at him sternly.

"Er, I was..."

"Trying to break into my things?"

Albus could feel his father's electric blue eyes boring into him, as if he could see into his very soul. He nodded numbly, unable to meet his gaze. Percival sighed.

"Come now... is it really so necessary to defy your mother at least four times a day? I saw you using magic out in the garden," he added by way of explaination, a small smile on his lips. Albus blushed, his face matching his auburn hair.

"I... I'm sorry, father."

"You don't have to apologize to me, my boy." He tapped him on the head, then smiled more widely. "Have you been blessed with brilliance, or have I been wrong? If you have, then prove it to me by showing a little more patience. You'll be off at Hogwarts in a little less than a year; you can wait until then to perfect the Calming Draught." Albus blushed once more, and Percival chuckled.

"Yes sir." Albus hesitated; Aberforth's question from that morning suddenly popped into his head, and for some inexplicable reason he had the urge to ask it. "Father, why--"

A bloodcurdling scream rang out, cutting him off in midsentence. For one heartstopping moment, Albus and his father stared at each other, eyes wide with shock; then Percival tore off through the house, Albus hurrying in his wake.

The scene that met them as they reached the yard made Albus's blood run cold. Ariana was on the ground, sobbing. Three Muggle boys were on top of her; one was twisting Ariana's arms behind her head, another had his hands tightly around her neck, and the third was standing over them, laughing cruelly. An abandoned rubber ball was lying in the grass, but the ragdoll was nowhere to be found. Immediately Albus knew with a jolt what had happened: the three boys had seen her doing magic, turning the doll into a toy ball.

Albus felt like all the air had been forced out of his lungs. He felt dizzy; he was barely aware that his father was still standing next to him. The Muggle boys' ugly, jeering faces looked up; they suddenly drained of all color, and Albus couldn't figure out why until he looked up at his father.

A change had come over the gentle man Albus had known his whole life. Percival was standing, wand pointed directly at the three boys, a look of cold fury on his face. His black robes billowed out around him, and his blue eyes looked as wild as an animal's. Albus felt genuinely frightened; he had never seen his father like this before.

Then, several things happened at once. The three Muggles suddenly took off running, headed for the hedge; he saw the tip his father's wand slash through the air; with a sickening squelching sound, blood erupted from the face of one of the Muggle boys, who howled in pain, collapsing on the ground...

The other two boys kept running, breaking through the hedge, and his father tore off after him.

"Father, FATHER! NO!" Albus shouted, snatching at the fleeing hem of Percival's robes, to try to stop him, hinder him, anything, but his fist closed on thin air. Running past his now unconscious sister and the bloody, whimpering Muggle, Albus tore off after his father, but it was no use; the grown man easily outstripped his ten-year-old son.

Albus forced his way through the hedge and came out onto a dirt path. Looking around desperately for his father, Albus spotted him, arms tight around one of the Muggle boys, his wand apparently forgotten. The third boy was gone, apparently having abandoned his companions. Albus felt the air rush back into his lungs, icy cold, filling him with dread and disbelief; he knew what his father was trying to do, and he knew that he had to stop it before--

Several loud CRACKs echoed around them, and a chorus of voices bellowed "_Stupefy_!" as the autumn air was filled with red light. Albus felt his heart stop. It was too late.

Lying unconscious on the ground, surrounded by Ministry officials, was Percival Dumbledore. For the first time in his life, Albus's mind failed him. Everything seemed to be crashing down around him; before he could even register what had happened, he collapsed.


	3. A Broken Family

When he first came to, everything seemed to be swimming. He couldn't figure out why; bringing his hand to his eyes, he realized that they were wet with his own tears. Somewhere near him, someone was sobbing quietly.

Albus sat up, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. He was lying in his bedroom; his mother was sitting next to him on a chair holding Ariana tightly, and he realized that it was she who was sobbing. This might have registered as shock normally -- he had never seen his mother show many emotions other than impatience, let alone sorrow -- but he was too numb to be surprised. Something inside him seemed to have gone cold. Looking across the room, he saw that Aberforth was sitting on his own bed, completely silent; the usual spirit that the boy possessed seemed to have gone out.

"Mum?" Albus finally said shakily. "What's..."

"Albus! You're awake!" Kendra gasped, looking up at him. He had never seen her look so relieved. She clutched him tightly, holding him and kissing him on the forehead. Albus had too many questions to be taken in by his wonder at this.

"I was so worried... " his mother went on shakily. Her face was wet with tears. "Oh, I don't know what I would have done if both you and Ariana were..."

"Mum, what... what's happened? Is Ariana alright?"

Kendra fell silent. Her grip on his sister tightened. For the first time Albus looked down at Ariana; other than a couple of cuts and bruises, she seemed to be fine. And yet, as Albus looked closer, something didn't seem completely right. Her eyes were half-closed, and she was mumbling quietly to herself.

"Mum!" Albus insisted, as panic began to wash over him. "What's wrong with her?"

"We... we don't know," Kendra sniffed, kissing Ariana on the forehead. The little girl didn't respond, but merely continued her delusional muttering. "She's been like this since she woke up... we think that the attack may have, well..." She choked and broke out into a fresh bout of sobs, but it wasn't necessary for her to go on. Albus realized what had happened; the attack by the Muggle boys must have caused Ariana some kind of trauma.

"Mum, we can't stay here... we have to take her to St. Mungo's, or call a Healer, or something!"

Kendra hesitated, then shook her head slowly.

"Why on earth not?"

"We... we can't tell anyone."

"What? Mum... what are you saying?" Albus demanded, appalled.

"Don't question me," Kendra said, suddenly fierce. "I'm your mother, and you'll do as I say. No one is to know about Ariana's condition."

"But if no one knows about Ariana, then what has father told the Ministry?"

Kendra fell silent for a moment, then her stern exterior broke down once more into a fresh bout of strangled sobs. Albus's face paled. If his father couldn't tell the Ministry of Magic about Ariana's attack, then his attack on the Muggle boys would have been seen as completely unwarranted...

"Mum, is father...?"

"He's... he's in Azkaban," his mother said simply. She stood up, drying her tears with the sleeve of her robe. Albus could tell that it was taking her a great effort to keep from crying again. "I'm going to go put Ariana in bed. Just... try to get some rest. Alright, Albus?" Kendra gave him a weary smile, then strode out of the room, Ariana still cradled gently in her arms.

Albus looked at the single dark window in his room; it had to be nearly midnight, and yet he wasn't tired. How could this be happening? Percival Dumbledore had been their rock, their shelter... how could the Dumbledore family survive without him? Albus had to use all of his strength to fight the oncoming wave of nausea that was threatening to take over. He had heard about all of the horrible things that happened in Azkaban. Creatures called Dementors guarded it; most didn't survive...

Anger suddenly bubbled up within him. Why were his parents refusing to tell the Ministry about Ariana? If they did, then his father would be cleared. Had it been his mother's decision? Was she trying to keep up her good reputation as a mother? How could she just abandon their father like that? It was sick, it was cruel, it was...

But no... even if she didn't show it, Albus knew that his mother loved his father. Then what was going on? Why was this happening? Albus hated feeling in the dark. He just wanted to understand _why_...

Albus crawled underneath his sheets once more. How could this be happening? His father may have said that he had been blessed with brilliance... but Albus had never felt more lost in his life.

------------------

That winter was the coldest that the Dumbledores had ever felt. Percival had always brought such life and warmth into the house, but now that he was in Azkaban, it was as if a light had been put out in all of their hearts. The days and weeks all ran together, nothing but a blur of icy numbness. Kendra was now even snappier and more sullen than usual; Aberforth still didn't seem to understand what was going on, but since Kendra shot down any questions he asked, the once-lively boy grew more and more silent as time went on.

The newspapers didn't help. The attack on three innocent Muggle children by the "Muggle-hating" Percival Dumbledore was well-publicized, and his trial was being closely followed by the Daily Prophet. Most of their neighbors in Mould-on-the-Wold had stopped coming to call, and nearly all of the Wizarding families in the village avoided the Dumbledores whenever possible. Some family friends kept sympathetic contact, but Kendra's coldness and the children's emotional distance caused them, too, to fall to the wayside.

On top of it all, Ariana's condition was only getting worse. Worst of all were her episodes. The first time it happened, Albus had been sitting in his room on the floor, turning the pages of a book without taking in any of it. Aberforth was sitting on his bed, staring at the wall in silence. Albus had lost all desire to practice his magic or to produce potions; this was hardly helped by the fact that the last thing his father had said to him was to show patience until Hogwarts. Not that it made any difference -- Albus wouldn't have touched a cauldron if someone paid him. How could he, when his experiments had been the cause of Ariana's attack? If he had only stayed in the yard and watched Ariana like he was supposed to, none of it would have happened. The feeling made him sick.

A tremor suddenly shook the floor, and a stifled scream came from down the hall. Albus jumped to his feet, alarmed; Aberforth looked up in dazed bewilderment, as if coming out of a waking dream.

"Stay here," Albus insisted, running out into the hallway. Smoke was coming from his sister's room; he hurried inside, only to find his mother holding her wand shakily. The curtains were ablaze.

"_A...Aguamenti_..." Kendra stammered, as a stream of water erupted from her wand and put out the flames. Her face was pale, and her eyes were wide with panic; she seemed to not even notice that he was there. Albus was shocked; what on earth had happened? He had never seen his mother so shaken. Where had the fire come from?

A horrible unearthly scream suddenly came from his feet; the sound itself made his hair stand on end. Looking down, Albus realized with horrified revulsion that his sister was on the floor, her blue eyes rolling back into her head, her limbs thrashing, her face feverish and sweating. Her lips were moving very quickly, and yet no sound came out. She looked mad, and yet--

A brilliant light shot from his sister, flying into the wall with a crash; pieces of wood and brick rained down upon them, and Albus hurriedly grabbed hold of his sister to protect her from the falling rubble. She was twisting and writhing so violently that it was all he could do to hold on.

Kendra grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him away, scooping up a shaking Ariana. She held her tightly, and in the crisp light coming from the frosty window Albus realized that his mother's face was wet with terrified tears.

Albus looked down at his sister, and he knew.

This was why they couldn't tell the Ministry -- not if they wanted to keep Ariana. This was the sacrifice that Percival had made; he had given his freedom so that Ariana wouldn't be taken away from them, a "threat" to everyone around her.

Albus silently stepped forward, hugging his mother. Normally she might have moved him away in irritation, but this time she pulled him close with one arm.

Aberforth's curly head appeared around the door frame.

"Mum? What happened?" He looked around at the destroyed bedroom, a look of innocent confusion on his face. "Mum, why... why are you crying?"

Kendra said nothing, merely motioning for Aberforth to come closer. She clutched him just as tightly, a strangled sob escaping from her lips. Albus could feel it coming, but he couldn't prevent it; tears, hot and wet, began to obscure his vision and blur the image of his mother. Aberforth, though he didn't seem to realize what was happening, began to cry as well.

They stood there, shaking, huddling for warmth, love, comfort, safety, peace, all of the things that they had lost when both Percival and Ariana had been taken away from them. It felt like an eternity before Kendra broke the silence.

"Albus, Aberforth, in a moment I want you to go and pack your things," Kendra whispered. "We're moving. Away from Mould-on-the-Wold."

"But mum, where are we going?" Aberforth asked quietly.

Kendra didn't answer, merely shaking her head. Albus nodded silently, not needing to question why. They couldn't stay here, he knew that. Not with the shadow of the accident looming over them, not when all of their happiest memories here included their father. They had to leave if they were ever to recover from the tragedy that had befallen them.

The four Dumbledores huddled together, a broken family, all alone in the world.


	4. Nutty As Squirrel Poo

The move was a quiet affair. They told nobody but close friends and family where they were going, though Albus suspected that his mother would refrain from keeping in touch with any of them -- his father had been the social one in the family. Albus didn't mind; he had never been one for playmates, and generally preferred his own company. Aberforth might have minded losing contact with the Wizarding children of Mould-on-the-Wold a bit more if he wasn't still shaken by their father's arrest and Ariana's condition. It had been at least three months since he had bothered visiting Harvey Ridgebit and his pet Crup.

Albus had expected it to take a while for them to find a new place to live, but surprisingly it was only about a week before Kendra found a small cottage in a village called Godric's Hollow. From the name, Albus assumed that it had been named after Godric Gryffindor, one of the four legendary founders of Hogwarts. The thought gave him a small degree of pride; his father had been a Gryffindor, and it had always been his secret hope to be sorted into the same house as his father. What would people say, though, when they heard that a Gryffindor had been the one to attack some poor Muggle children? Albus felt ill at the thought. If only they knew...

On the day of the move, Kendra used Floo Powder to bring her children directly into the house so that no Muggles would come knocking and ask awkward questions. Albus understood that there were several Wizarding families present in Godric's Hollow, but like most settlements of its kind, it was largely populated by Muggles. He felt vaguely resentful at the thought; his one comfort was that the Dumbledores would most likely be staying indoors as much as possible. If anything, the attack on Ariana had made them wiser about the world around them.

Albus was the first to step through the emerald-colored flames of their fireplace; when he had stopped spinning, he stepped forward, shook the ash off of his robes, and had his first look at their new home. It was a moderately-sized, cozy wooden cottage built in the Tudor style with wooden floors, whitewashed walls, and oak beams lining the walls and ceilings. The windows were small yet bright, and offered a view of the town square; Albus peered out of them eagerly.

It was actually a fairly quaint village; while Mould-on-the-Wold was more of a grubby town left from the Medieval ages, Godric's Hollow looked like something out of a postcard. A cobblestone town square was at the center of the village, and was surrounded by several houses, a post office, and a small church. Past the church, Albus could see an old graveyard with a kissing gate at the front. The winter snows were beginning to melt, giving the village a sparkling look in the sunlight.

He heard his brother appear behind him, spluttering ash, followed by his mother carrying Ariana. He turned to see his brother surveying the house with mild interest.

"Wow, it's big," Aberforth said. He turned hopefully to his mother. "Mum, d'you reckon me and Albus can have our own rooms?"

"Yes," Kendra said, the faintest flicker of a smile appearing at the edges of her thin lips. "You may."

"Brilliant," Aberforth said, his face lighting up. Albus couldn't help but smile; this was one of the first things that his brother had gotten excited about in ages. Perhaps this move was exactly what the Dumbledores needed after all. As Aberforth bounded off up the stairs, Albus followed him slowly, taking time to appreciate the wide, sunny rooms he passed and the hand-carved oak banisters on the staircase. It was certainly a nice house, neither two big nor too small, and it had a certain warmth about it that made it feel like home.

As Albus came to the top of the staircase, he found his brother standing in the middle of a fairly large room.

"This one's mine," Aberforth said quickly, spotting Albus through the doorway.

"That's fine," Albus said with a small smile. He looked around at the available rooms; one room, a small one, was located next to Aberforth's, and a door connected the two rooms. Preferring not to have to share any more space with his brother than was necessary -- being in the same room as him for seven years had been quite enough -- Albus bypassed the room and went on to the next. The sight took his breath away.

The room wasn't very large, but it was cozy. The most noticeable feature was the big dormer window at the far side of the room; it had a brightly-lit window seat with a midnight-blue velvet cushion. Albus approached the wide glass window eagerly; as it faced the rear of the house, it had a magnificent view of the surrounding moor. The landscape was a bit boggy in the low parts, and was still covered with scattered patches of melting snow; but the grassy rolling hills went on for miles and miles under a sunny blue sky, and the overall effect was beautiful. For the first time since Ariana's attack, Albus felt at peace.

"This is the one you like, I see," Kendra said suddenly from behind him. She was surveying the room with mild interest. "I thought you might. The window seat will be good for reading, I suppose."

"I really do like it," Albus said earnestly. "Could I have it, mum? Please?"

"Yes, yes," Kendra said dismissively. She gave the room a quick look-around once more, then flicked her wand. Albus's bed, his trunk, and his small stack of personal belongings appeared in the room. "I put Ariana in the room next to Aberforth, which leaves the fourth room for me," she added, more to herself than to Albus. She gave another distracted look around the room, then strode out into the hall to check on her other children.

Albus flung himself onto the bed, old feelings of happiness stirring from somewhere deep within him. This place was perfect. He pictured himself spending sunny afternoons reading on the window seat, exploring the village, studying strange creatures in the moor... yes, this change was exactly what they needed. The only thing missing was--

A knock rang out suddenly from the first floor. Albus sat up in his bed in alarm, then dashed into the hallway in time to see his mother hurrying downstairs, flicking her wand and changing her witch's robes into a plain Muggle dress, a look of worry on her face.

"Mum, who is it?" Aberforth called from his room.

"Be quiet!" Kendra hissed from somewhere downstairs. Albus ran back into his room, threw open his trunk, and quickly began to change into his own Muggle clothing. How did anyone know that they were here? No one in the village should have known that they were moving in, Muggle or Wizard. Why, then, was someone coming to call just moments after they had arrived?

He tore off down the stairs in time to find his mother opening the door.

The woman standing on their doorstep was somewhat short, with flyaway, mousy hair that was turning grey at the temples. She was wearing a faded green dress, and had a large carpet bag hooked around her arm. She had a bright, cheery expression, though she gave off an air that was distinctly flighty and scatterbrained. The woman bustled inside without invitation; Albus felt his heart skip a beat fearfully as he wondered why the woman didn't quail at the look of shocked fury on his mother's face. Perhaps she simply hadn't noticed.

"Hello, hello!" the woman said cheerfully, surveying the house with fascinated interest. Her eyes fell on Albus, who had stopped halfway down the stairs, and her face broke out into a wide smile. "This must be your son! Hello there! Would you like a sweet?" She began rummaging through her handbag. "I think I have a few somewhere in--"

"Excuse me," Kendra said loudly, her voice icy. She clearly did not take kindly to this strange woman barging into her home. "Who are _you_?"

"Oh, silly me!" the woman said, laughing airily. "My name is Bathilda Bagshot! Welcome to Godric's Hollow!"

"I see," Kendra said, her expression still stony and mistrusting. "And how exactly did you know that we were moving in today...?"

"Oh, my Secrecy Sensor started going off," Bathilda said loudly, waving her hand dismissively. "It's overly sensitive, it starts vibrating at the first sign of magic... but it's never done it so violently! So, I told myself that some Wizarding family must have finally moved into the house next door."

"Ah," Kendra said, her expression relaxing slightly, and Albus could tell what she was thinking -- this woman was clearly a Witch, not a Muggle, meaning that they could relax a bit. And while Kendra was hardly friendly, she could be at least marginally polite when she had to be. She shut the door behind Bathilda to keep out the cold, and so that no Muggles would overhear them.

"My name is Kendra Dumbledore," she said, inclining her head slightly. "This is my son Albus, the oldest; my youngest son, Aberforth, is upstairs getting settled." Albus couldn't help but notice that she had failed to mention Ariana. Were they keeping her a total secret now? He supposed it was the best way to keep people from snooping around, but it still felt wrong to pretend as if he didn't have a sister.

"Kendra, Albus, and Aberforth," Bathilda repeated aloud. "Dumbledore... you know, I think that name rings a bell."

"Does it, now?" Kendra said quietly, her expression stiffening. "I couldn't imagine why."

Bathilda stood there thoughtfully for a moment, then shook her head dismissively. "Oh well. It's gone. Now, Albus," she said, taking him by surprise by addressing him directly. "How old are you?"

"Ten," Albus said before he could stop himself. He hesitated, then added, "I'll be turning eleven this summer."

"So you'll be going to Hogwarts next fall, then?" she asked, eyes lighting up.

"Yes ma'am."

"Then you'll be reading my book, no doubt," Bathilda said excitedly. She rummaged around in her huge handbag, then pulled out a crisp new book and handed it to him. "_A History of Magic_. I always carry a spare copy. Consider it a housewarming gift."

"Thank you very much!" Albus said, delighted, taking the book eagerly and running his hands over the smooth cover. The words _A History of Magic, First Edition, by Bathilda Bagshot_ were written in smooth gold script on the front cover.

"It's autographed inside," Bathilda chimed in cheerfully, tapping the cover. "Now, when you're taking the class, be sure to give Professor Binns my regards, he's a close associate of mine."

"Mum, who's here?" Aberforth called from upstairs.

"One of our new neighbors come to wish us welcome," Kendra called, in a tone of forced cheerfulness. "Mrs... Bagshot."

"Miss," Bathilda corrected, beaming. Kendra nodded curtly. Albus could tell that she was perfectly keen to get rid of this unwelcome surprise visitor, but he was in no hurry for her to go. He couldn't help but like this woman; anyone who knew enough to fill a book was fine by him.

"Oh," Aberforth said vaguely, coming down the first few steps to get a better look at the newcomer for a moment. His curiosity satisfied, he then turned his attention back to his mother. "Mum, Ariana's just sitting on the floor shaking... she won't stop."

Kendra turned pale, her wide eyes locked on Aberforth, and Albus felt the room freeze over. Bathilda seemed unaware of the tension in the air; she smiled at Kendra with polite curiosity.

"Ariana?"

"She's... my youngest daughter," Kendra said stiffly. "She's terribly frail, however. Very ill. She can't have any visitors. At _all_."

Bathilda looked distraught. "Oh, I'm so sorry to hear it. Perhaps I can--"

"Thank you, but we really do have a lot to get done," Kendra cut in. She opened the door and held it expectantly.

"I... I see," Bathilda said, looking a little affronted and confused as she stepped outside. "Well, another time, then? Perhaps your family could come over for tea some--"

"Perhaps," Kendra said curtly, sweeping the door shut in one movement and slamming it in Bathilda's face. Albus winced; that could certainly have gone better. He wouldn't have minded having tea with Miss Bagshot, but he knew that it was now out of the question in his mother's eyes. And yet, while he felt bad for Bathilda, the look on his mother's face was the worst part; she looked positively sick. Obviously, letting their neighbor know about Ariana hadn't been part of her plan. Albus understood why; what if Miss Bagshot suspected that something fishy was going on, and sent the Ministry or a Healer to investigate? They'd lose custody of Ariana to St. Mungo's because of her condition. They had already lost their father; their family surely couldn't withstand the loss of anyone else. Albus glanced at his mother once more; she was now looking up the landing at Aberforth with a glare of such intensity that Aberforth's eyes widened in visible terror. Without hesitation, he turned and bolted up the stairs; Kendra was close behind.

"What -- did -- I -- _tell_ -- you?" she hissed.

"I'm sorry, Mum, I'm sorry!" Aberforth wailed from somewhere upstairs.

Albus sighed, crossing to their new sitting room. He tried to drown out the sound of Aberforth's howls, mixing with Ariana's, by focusing on _A History of Magic_. However, it was no use; he couldn't focus. His mind was swimming with thoughts of Ariana, his father, and how different things were going to be from then on. They had found their change of scenery, true, but was that really enough? Could their new settings make them any less of a broken family?

It was no use wondering at this point. What good ever came from living in dreams? All they could do now was try to find what happiness they could in their new home. How else could they survive?


End file.
